fool" Then: "See about him." And he rode toward the
spot. Two men, the one who had fired the shot and another,
slipped out of their saddles, and ran to the fallen man.
Mr. Munn, from his saddle, looked down at them as they
turned the body over, and fumbled at the buttons of the coat.
"He's alive!" one of the men said excitedly. "His heart,
I can feel it!"
" Where's he hit?" Mr. Munn demanded.
"HitI" The other man, the man who had fired the shot,
stood up. "Hit! the bastard's drunk." He looked down at
him disgustedly. " He's puked all over hisself."
" You might-er killed him," the other man said.
" He might-er killed me."
"Listen," Mr. Munn said, "you're supposed to fire when
you're ordered. You understand?"
" Ain't no bastard gonna shoot at me," the man retorted.
Mr. Munn looked down at him for a moment. " Fire," he
repeated, "when you're ordered, I said. Do you understand?"
" All right," the man said grudgingly.
"Now drop that fellow in the lobby of the hotel," Mr.
Munn ordered, " and get back in line."
He watched them drag the fallen man toward the doorway,
kicking aside the shattered glass on the pavement as they did
so; then he returned to his position at the intersection of the
streets. All the men there were staring down the slope of
Main Street, eastward. There at the foot of the slope, under
the distant arc-light, he could see the column of men on foot
passing toward the warehouses. Mr. Munn took out his
watch. " It won't be very long now," he remarked.
" Wonder what took 'em so long," one of the men said.
" I don't know," Mr. Munn answered, " unless we just mis-
calculated. I've heard it said it takes a lot of men marching
together a lot longer to get somewhere than it does one man.
I don't know, but that's what I've heard said."
The last men passed at the foot of the slope. There was
nothing but the empty street, on which the store windows
looked, and the thin string of arc-lights reaching one block